


Echo of a Soul

by Vauvenal



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Coma, Gen, Hospital
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-22
Updated: 2016-08-22
Packaged: 2018-08-10 10:08:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7840606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vauvenal/pseuds/Vauvenal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Coma is an ugly word.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Echo of a Soul

_Coma._

 

The word echoes in Hanzo's mind like the painful noise of fingernails against a blackboard.

_Comacomacomacomacoma._

It's an ugly word and he hates it. He hates that he has to hear it, say it, think it, realize it.

 

He walks through the halls of Shimada castle with blurs of the past fight clouding his thoughts.

 

He and Genji had been defending their home and family.

Their dragons had fought like demons, all teeth and roar and flaming eyes, until – Hanzo would never forget the sharp noise of that one gunshot that was followed by a synchronized, strangled cry from both of the green spirits. They'd tried to keep their form, to best their foes, but just seconds after, they disintegrated into greenish embers. Hanzo's throat had grown tight as he'd realized what this meant – something was wrong with Genji, something was very wrong.

From this point on, his memory fails him, only leaving back washed out images of things he's trying to shove away into the back of his mind where they won't disturb him. But it's futile.

 

Genji, staggering back and forth, trying to regain balance.

Genji, bleeding from a wound in his chest.

Genji, falling.

The splash of Genji's blood as his body collapses in the red puddle that's slowly spreading on the dark wood of the floor, too bright, too fresh, too shining against the dull surface.

He recalls himself screaming something, hasty words, calling Genji's name, desperately yelling at him, _don't you dare leave me, listen to me, Genji, please look at me_ – and he recalls Genji's eyes sliding shut, blood all over his face, his arms, his hands, soaking through the white fabric of his yukata, leaving ugly red splotches.

Then his mind fails him and everything fades to black.

 

The first days had been agony. Not knowing anything. Staring at the cold, white walls of the medical facility. Exchanging glances with the doctors, not daring to ask anything but at the same time being plagued by ignorance.

When they'd finally allowed him to visit, Hanzo had slowly entered the room, not knowing what he would see.

It had been terrifying.

 

-

 

It's been a week.

Hanzo is used to it by now. Used to the constant beeping of the machines, the rhythmic, sterile sound of the respirator, in synch with the gentle movement of Genji's chest. He looks clean, peaceful, almost like he's napping if it weren't for the numerous tubes and monitors he's connected to. His hair has grown out a little, the green strands unkempt and messy, dark brown peeking through at the roots. If it weren't for the situation, Hanzo would probably chuckle about how odd his brother looks when he hasn't shaved in a week.

Hanzo checks the systems. The heart rate, temperature and breathing are all normal. But still, the dark circles under Genji's eyes and his generally weak and haggard appearance show that he's anything but fine.

Hanzo gently puts a hand on Genji's cheek, carefully avoiding the tubes. A trail of saliva is running out of Genji's mouth and Hanzo wipes it away with his thumb.

“Good evening,” he whispers. “It's … good to see you. I just wonder why you're so tired lately.” A small, sad chuckle escapes his throat. “Usually your hangovers don't last more than two or three days.”

Genji's foot twitches, but Hanzo knows by now that this doesn't mean he should get his hopes up. He'd felt Genji grip his hand, move his arms, grit his teeth.

He'd seen his eyelids twitch and his brows furrow, but no matter how much he moves, Hanzo knows it doesn't mean anything.

When Genji opens his eyes and looks at Hanzo with an empty, unconscious gaze, he lets go of his cheek.

Hanzo's view is blurred by tears as he realizes that nothing has changed, that Genji is still … not with him.

 

And he doesn't know if he'll ever see his brother again.

 


End file.
